The Sport of Kings: A Speed Racer AU
by BatWingteenavenger
Summary: What if Speed had been brought up on a different kind of track? First fic for this genre! Reviews are welcome! Ch. 6 is UP!
1. Trackside Tragedy

**The Sport of Kings: A Speed Racer AU**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except made up characters, tracks, ect, and the plot. Speed apparently owns himself, and his own enterprises!

**Note: **My first Speed Racer fic. I usually write for Nightwing but after I saw the movie and several episodes of the Animated series I got hooked. This idea popped into my brain one sleepless night and has not left me alone since! It is obviously an AU-or is it an Elseworld?-but there are key elements that fans such as yourselves will recognize. Please review and tell me what you think. Should I continue or is this a failed fic? YOU decide!

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The gates opened and the race began. Thousands watched as 14 racers jostled for first place, but a pair of bright blue eyes were transfixed on only _one_ rider. "Rex is gonna come up from behind just like he did last time, aint he, Pops?" The eight-year-old looked briefly up at his large muscled father, then returned his attention to the track. The burly man shrugged,

"Augury never did well in mud. If Rex can pull a win out of her in non-favorable conditions I'll be more than impressed."

Speed Racer shook his head in amusement as he watched the dark chestnut mare that bore his older brother pull away from the pack and begin moving up from the outside. "He's making his move!" the boy squealed excitedly. Pops Racer nodded, his eyes on the other horses as well as on Rex. As the oldest Racer boy moved up, the rest of the pack moved out. _Watch your peripherals Rex! Gagnon is gaining ground and fast. Pull away! Pull Away!_ "Why doesn't he pull away? That big bay is gonna pass him up!" Right as the pack passed the two furlong mark, Rex gave Augury the go. The mare and her rider became one and Speed watched in delight as they took the lead and left the others behind. WAY behind.

What happened next would haunt Speed and Pops for years to come.

Ten yards from victory, Augury tripped. Rex tumbled forward, hit the ground and lay still. The mare landed atop her rider, crushing him but saving him the humiliation of being trampled by the other horses as they thundered across the finish line.

The crowd was silent, as if everyone was holding their breath waiting the jockey to rise. Speed leaped to his feet. Before anyone could stop him, the eight-year-old was on the track, knees deep in the mud, holding his older brother's body up against his small chest. "_REX!_ " he wailed in despair, "REX! Don't die, Rex! Say something, _PLEASE!_" Rex stirred weakly and whispered "Mahhago." Speed clutched his older brother harder, determined to keep Rex talking until the medical staff arrived, "But Mahhago's _your _horse, Rex!" The older Racer looked up at his younger brother with a tired expression and croaked, "Not anymore, Speedy." With a final sigh, Rex Racer went limp. Knowing what this could and probably did mean, Speed lifted his head and howled his sorrow. He did not stop voicing his anguish until the medics came and took his older brother away in an ambulance.

That was the last time Speed Racer ever saw Rex.

_**Or was it? Next chapter, should there be another: TEN YEARS LATER. Please review.**_


	2. Ten Years Later

**Chapter 2: TEN YEARS LATER**

**Notes: **Thanks to those of you who posted reviews! Had it not been for you, this fic would have died young! Now, I am well aware that this next chapter is going to break some equine breeding rules and racing regulations, but have no fear; they have been broken for creative purposes only and will hopefully not interfere with the flow of the story. As always, reviews are very much appreciated!

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Finally, the boy had reached the age when he was worthy to mount the Great White Steed he had inherited from his older brother. Mahhago was no ordinary Thoroughbred. In fact he was not a Thoroughbred _at all_. Pops Racer had bred the Great White from a choice set of sire and dam; an Arabian mare for stamina, speed, and heart, and a true white (rare for the breed) Friesian stallion for strength, size, and more speed. The Arabian mare was cross-bred with an Australian Mountain horse, so Mahhago was sure-footed and agile despite his size.

None of this meant anything to Speed Racer as he took the reins of the horse he had raised since he was nine and 'Go was still a foal. All Speed cared about was getting to know his four-legged partner 'under saddle'. He and Mahhago already shared a special bond-a bond Speed had sensed between Rex and Augury many years ago. However, there is only so much one can learn while on the ground.

Checking his stirrups, the young rider headed out to the dirt track behind Racer Ranch. Next to the track was a show jumping arena. As Speed passed by as he did every day just walking 'Go, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen greeted his eyes. He had known the angel that caught his attention ever since they were ten, but that did not prepare the young rider for the site of Trixie Shimera atop the shimmering gold Palomino filly, gliding across the arena in the pale, first light of morning.

Speed's mount, however, was less than impressed and showed his impatience by tugging on the bit. Then, Trixie's golden mount locked eyes with the colt and Speed groaned; Twinkle was in heat and gunning for Mahhago. This meant the white horse was going to show off and Twinkle was going to give Trixie a terrible time during their respective warm-ups. Not good.

With great effort, the young Racer urged his mount to the starting gate and was a bit surprised when Mahhago didn't make a fuss about entering the enclosed space. Taking a deep breath and bracing himself for flight, Speed spoke into the two-way radio Pops had built into his helmet.

"Ok, Sparky, let 'er rip!"

The gates flew open with a BANG and off went Mahhago like a blast of white lightning; Speed squealing "OH YEAH!!" as he gained ground and flew.

Unfortunately, part of the deal Speed made with Pops about being able to ride the Great White was that the young rider would never unleash Mahhago's full power. EVER. When father and son made the deal, Speed was ok with it. Now, though, the young Racer was reluctant as he held his mount back from going flat out.

To calm himself, Speed concentrated on listening to Mahhago as Rex had taught him a long time ago. Speed could almost hear his older brother coaching him in the back of his mind as he rode on.

_Ok, Speedy, tune everything else out-just listen to him, Speed. He's telling you what he wants, what he needs_. _Close your eyes and __**listen.**_

Speed closed his eyes and breathed in time to Mahhago's hoof beats; everything else was non-existent. He heard a small hiccup in the beating rhythm of his horse's heart.

_Hear that, Speedy? He's ready to let loose! Don't let him all out just yet; wait for the stretch._

Speed gave the Great White a little more rein and felt his pace quicken just a bit.

_You're heading for the two-furlong mark. Switch leads to let him know you're ready._

"Ok, buddy, I'm ready when you are. Let's show Sparky what we can do!"

As if in response, 'Go began to pull on the bit. Speed whooped, "LET 'ER BLAST!" and released the reined hold, totally oblivious to Sparky as the trainer/groom hollered in his headset,

"No, Speed! You know what Pops said! Rein him in! REIN HIM IN!!"

Speed did not hear Sparky. He did not see or hear anything outside his consciousness. He was in the Zone, just him and Mahhago together as one unit, blasting past the finish posts. Only after the Great White slowed to a trot did Speed snap out of his trancelike state.

"Wow" the rider breathed, "That was _incredible!_"

"That was incredible, all right. You shattered the course record _and_ broke your word! At this rate, Pops is _never_ gonna let you race!"

"Actually, Sparky, Speed's performance today proves to me that he CAN handle being a real Jockey."

Speed turned to see Pops Racer in the otherwise empty stands, holding a paper sack. The rider dismounted and walked to the rail like a whipped cur but there was a light in his eyes as he asked meekly,

"You mean it, Pops? Even after I went back on our deal and disobeyed you, you're gonna let me be the Racer Ranch Jockey?"

Pops laughed and handed his son the sack he had been carrying, "Let this answer your question, Speed."

Speed opened the pack and gasped, "No WAY! The Racer family silks?! OH MAN! It's true!" The young man proudly held up the cherished uniform and gleaming riding helmet; both had an exaggerated crimson 'M' emblazoned on a white background. The shirt had red cuffs and sported a red collar. In the bag also were red shin guards, a crimson bandanna and yellow racing gloves. Speed was struck speechless in awe, surprise, and gratitude as he fingered the bandanna. Pops put a hand on his son's shoulder and said seriously,

"Speed, I'm going to tell you right now that this is not going to be easy. There will be people who don't like you and races you won't win. You're starting out in the bottom ranks-below GIII races. These are winner-take-all, no-holes-barred races with no rules except to win. However, Rex survived 'em and I know you can too. I'm very proud of you, Speed."

"Thanks, Pops. I won't let you down."

_**Next: HOME JOCKEY! Stay tuned 'cause this author is on a roll! Please review!**_


	3. Home Jockey

**Disclaimer ** Same as always.

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Speed quickly learned that being a 'home jockey' meant that he rode whatever horse Pops entered in whatever race Pops decided to enter him meant that Speed had to familiarize himself with eight different mounts with eight different leg types and personalities, plus he had to learn how to deal with three mares in heat at different times of the month. Add that to the fact that two of the eight mounts were full-blooded thoroughbreds to whom the term "hot blood" truly did apply, and Speed had quite the challenge. When things got too tough, the young racer called on Dressage champion Trixie Shimera for help.

Trixie was the horse trainer of the ranch and because her profession called for her to be as one with her mount, most of the local jockeys came to her for advice. Speed came to her for training, advice, or just to watch her ride and see her work magic.

Trixie was also a teacher for up-and-coming equestrians. She was finishing up a lesson when Speed rode up on Windu; a dark bay, half-Thoroughbred colt who thought every other horse was going to eat him. Windu was not a big horse as he was only the size of a Mustang (about 14 hands high) but Speed felt Trixie could help boost the horse's self esteem and get him ready for racing.

Trixie greeted the young rider and looked him up and down as she always did when he came to her for training. She clicked disapprovingly and smacked Speed's head with her riding crop.

"No wonder he's freaked, Speed! The poor horse has his head so high that he can't turn it to look at anything around him! Loosen up and give him more rein. There, feel him relaxing a little? You better tell Pops that blinkers on Windu's facemask are a very bad idea. You're doing better posturewise, by the way."

Speed blushed as Trixie continued her inspection.

"Thanks, Trix. You. . . look good too."

The trainer paused, her cheeks flushing just slightly as she ushered her willing student into a gated arena.

"Come on, lover-boy. Show me his paces."

Speed did so and noticed a slight change in his mount's performance. Trixie noticed, too, that Windu was moving smoother and was much calmer since his rider had given him his head.

"Good, Speed! I can see the difference and I know that you can _feel_ it. Now you two can start working as a team. I can show you the ropes but it's up to _you _to work the magic. You're a natural Speed. It's in your blood and I know you can do it!"

_It's in your blood. _Those five words sent Speed back in time, when his older brother Rex was still alive. Pops and Rex were having an argument about Speed's future after the seven-year-old beat his brother's rival in a mock race using a Mountain Pony.

_**That day, the two didn't know he had been listening the entire time. . . **_

"How could you have been so ignorant, Rex! A pony against a Thoroughbred?! Speed could have been hurt or worse!"

"Speed knew what he was doing, Pops! You can't keep him on Knuckles forever, not when all he wants is to participate in the Baby Stakes with Flotsam! Pops, you should have seen the little guy go. He was working _magic!_"

Rex's eyes glazed over as he remembered the day's one-in-a-million-chance events and relayed what he had been feeling watching his little brother race.

"It was like that pony and Speed were one, Pops. Yes, the bay pony was shorter and less powerful than big ol' Zoomer, but Flotsam definitely had more heart. Speed stuck to the rail like I told him to and stayed clear of Zoomer's hooves. As I watched him make his move, Pops, I _knew._ You can take him away from the track, but Speed will race another way."

"How do you know that, Rex? He may find another occupation. One that's safer."

Speed's older brother chuckled, "He never will be happy doing anything but racing. He has no choice."

"Oh, no?! Why is that?!"

Rex gestured towards the stables and said confidently,

"Because all us Racer men have this need. Turf runs through Racer veins. Horse blood blends with Racer bone. The thrill of going fast on a beast powerfull enough to make the ground shake is what we thrive on. 'For generations, the gift of the track has been handed down.' Remember when you told me that? Speed is a Racer so he bears the same gift. He can't help his need for the track. It's in his blood!"

_**End flashback**_.

"Earth to Speed! Earth to Speed! HEY!! Sparky said he wants to time Windu. Get going!!"

Speed shook himself back to the present and guided his mount to the starting gate, thanking Trixie and promising to stop by later.

As the dark bay trotted onto the dirt track, Trixie closed and locked the arena gate behind him and perched herself on the fence to watch Speed work. The equestrian champion giggled softly as she watched the jockey trying to coax Windu into the starting gate using every method he could come up with, but failing miserably. _Stop fighting him, Speed! _She coached silently, _The more you pull, the more he'll fight you._ Finally, the stubborn colt yielded and entered the gate. The bell sounded and horse and rider bolted out and took off. Trixie was reminded of Speed's very first race, the Baby Stakes. That race had also been the very first time she had seen Speed unleash some of his potential. Trixie had known then as she knew now, that the young man was going to be the greatest jockey in the history of racing. _And I love him like crazy!_

As Speed rounded the final corner, he caught Trixie watching him and grinned. The Dark Bay breezed across the finish line and the jockey guided his mount to a steady trot as Sparky berated him from the trainers' box.

"_You were a minute and a half behind today, Speed!! What is up with THAT?!!"_

"Not sure, Sparky. Maybe Windu isn't up to this. I didn't _feel_ him out there. The drive just isn't—it's not there."

There was silence. Then the trainer sighed. "_Maybe you're right. Maybe Windu is a claimer. I'll tell Pops. There's a Claims race coming up that we could enter him in."_

"Thanks, Sparky."

With a heavy heart Speed guided the colt toward the stables, patting Windu's neck affectionately and murmuring encouragement as he always did after a workout, good or bad.

Trixie watched him go, feeling sorry for the teen jockey. This was the third claimer that week. Speed, like most jockeys, got intimately attached to his mounts and was saddened when he had to give any of them up. Many riders grew hardened to the business of racing and grew accustomed to losing horses they had trained for a long time. Trixie knew Speed would never grow so callous.

There was just too much Rex in him.

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**Next: Speed's first race, A villainous intro to a familiar yet different SR baddie, and, THE RETURN! Stay Posted Racer Fans! And do REVIEW!!**


	4. And THEY'RE OFF!

**Disclaimer:** Same as the first chapter. Sue and get. . .nothing.

**A/N**: Dedicated to all my faithful readers, especially Jen and GentleLady. YOU GUYS ROCK!!

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The big-headed chestnut looked at him and whinnied, stomping the ground and throwing back her head as if to say 'come on let's _go_ already!' The masked man smiled and patted her on the neck. Then he mounted.

"Alright, Star, let's do it again what do you say?"

The mare lifted her head and reared; something she did only when the Masked Racer was atop her back, and strode out to meet the competition.

It was an average Claims race; there were thirteen other riders in the paddock area. One rider caught the Masked Racer's attention: rider number five. _Hey I know those silks!_ Racer X wanted to take a closer look, but his number was four horses behind the #5 dark bay colt. Then the jockey looked right at the Masked Racer and the man knew his hunch had been correct; his little brother had earned the right to become the family jockey. _Way to go, Speed!_ The older Racer congratulated silently as the horses were led into the gate. The man tore his mind from his brother and fixed all attention and focus on the track and his mount. Four gates to the left, Speed tore his attention from the mysterious racer and focused on the task at hand. Finally, the bell sounded and the gate flew open with a BANG, unleashing fourteen thunderbolts onto the track**. **

"**AND THEY'RE OFF!!" **The announcer bellowed as the race began.

Hooves pounded the turf as the horses exited the gate. Jockeys either urged their mounts to go faster or held them back while aiming for the rail, the outside, or the middle of the pack**.** Speed kept to the rear of the pack, keeping his mount between the rail and the outside**.** Unfortunately this caused him to be sandwiched between two other horses. This upset Windu and he became over-eager, throwing his head back and fighting the bit until his knowing rider gave him his head**. **The blunder regrettably caused Speed to lose some ground, and he fell behind the pack**.**

Racer X preferred to stay a little behind the cluster of horses and on the outside. That way when he gave StarScream the go, she would not only have the stamina, but the freedom to take the lead. The black-silked jockey noticed vaguely that rider number five preferred the back of the crowd as well**.** When the Dark Bay dropped further behind the rest, Racer X found himself neck-and-neck with his little brother. He noticed there was no symmetry between horse and rider, and the dark bay's eyes registered no drive. X also noticed that Speed was nervous and a little bit scared**.** Turning his head, the Masked Racer addressed his Younger brother**.**

"First race Rookie?"

Not taking his eyes off the track, Speed nodded, "Yeah**.** It's harder than just practicing!"

Racer X chuckled and clicked his tongue as the two passed the 2 furlong marker. He had felt Star's urging and knew she was ready to move**.**

"You'll get used to it over time, don't worry**. **Whoop, she's giving me the signal. Gotta go! HAW!!"

Speed watched the masked racer urge on the chestnut mare, passing the other racers like a knife cutting through butter. _Wow! Look at him go! What an amazing rider! He's seamless._

Speed crossed the finish line in fifth place, his mind still on the mysterious racer. As he rode on, still in deep thought, he barely heard a weasely voice say "claim!" until a thin man smacked him on the thigh and handed him a slip of paper. Speed dismounted sadly and watched as the man took Windu away. _Goodbye, ol' Darky. Hopefully we'll meet again._ The young jockey turned away—and walked smack into another rider**.**

"I'm sorry! 'Scuse me! Oh, hi Snake! I wasn't expecting to see _you_ here. I thought you were more of a GII jockey."

The other rider snorted, his ever-present, red-lensed Choppers staring the rookie jockey down. Snake came from a wealthy family that owned two large stables, and both the Oiler boys—Snake and Cobra—were convinced that they were better than everyone because of their wealth.

"Personally, Racer, I'm not surprised to find _you _here. Your father should know by now that _purebreds_ are superior and anything less is going to be a claimer. I'm here to get that chestnut beauty that won. She's the perfect broodmare. Excuse me while I claim my prize."

The jockey prepared to leave, then turned around and sneered,

"Don't hurt yourself riding those greenies, Speed."

Speed glared at Snake's back and hoped with all his being that the Masked Racer would not give up his mount to such a cold-blooded, mean-spirited family**.** He also hoped that when Pops took him on another 'horse search' that the Oiler ranch would _not _be one of the many stops on the list**. **


	5. High Class Ranch

**Disclaimer**: I own the plot, a DS, and the gall to write these characters the way I do. Boo Hoo No sue! No MONEY FOR YOU!

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Luck had abandoned the teen jockey, it seemed.

"Come now, son! I don't much care for Dumeril and his spoiled boys any more than you do. However, they have good horses so unless you want to wait until the Drive next week. . . "

"No, I can do this. Besides I may end up bonding with one of the horses here."

"That's my boy!" Pops clapped his son on the back and pulled the blue pickup with the five-horse-capacity trailer into a space marked 'LOADING AREA' and the two got out. They were greeted by Mr. Oiler himself.

"Welcome to Oiler Estate, Speed! Pops, it's been too long! So, you've finally come to your senses, eh? Good! Let's talk business then. Speed, why don't you look into the open corral and see if there's a steed you fancy!"

Speed looked up at the thin man in the tan and brown business suit, and his bright blue eyes shone with humble gratitude.

"Thank you, Mr. Oiler, I will!" the young man dashed off happily.

Pops laughed. Dumeril chuckled low as he watched eager Speed enter the corral full of loose Thoroughbreds.

"I hope he doesn't hurt himself in there, Pops. A loose hotblood could be dangerous." There was no denying the underlying insult in Oiler's tone. Pops tensed,

"Have you ever seen him _ride_, Dumeril? He has the Racer gift, just like Rex did. Look at him! He's as comfortable in there among those big boys as he would be if he were in bed!"

"Pops, little Speedy is a _greenhorn!_ He can't handle horses of my caliber. As a businessman I have to consider all angles. Take my advice, this is _not_ a good decision; either the horse will die or the jockey will die. Speed is just too green, please trust me on this!"

"Oiler shut up for a minute and just _watch!"_ Pops snapped.

Speed was standing in the middle of the corral with his eyes closed, while the mighty Hotbloods thundered around him. Then, slowly, he made his way to a dark liver chestnut colt, murmuring softly. The colt's ears perked up and he lifted his mighty head and snorted, stomping his front hoof as if to say 'Hey! I've been waiting for you! What took so long?!' Obviously not wanting to wait any longer, the colt trotted right up to the young jockey and nuzzled his outstretched hand, then let Speed scratch behind his ears. Speed smiled ear-to-ear and said triumphantly to Pops,

"This one's got the drive! I _heard _it in his heartbeat!"

Oiler laughed at the enthusiastic rider.

"My boy, I think you'd better test him under saddle before making a final decision."

Speed crossed his arms and cocked his head, "Mr. Oiler, you don't think I can _handle_ a purebred, do you? Didn't think so. Pops, throw me a halter and a pair of reins please."

Pops complied. Speed caught the equipment one-handed and tacked up the great head of the chestnut. The jockey then mounted the Thoroughbred. Bareback. Oiler snickered, "Fool! Your son is even _greener_ than I thought, to ride that horse without a saddle!" Pops was confused,

"Why's that? Speed's ridden bareback before."

Because," came the reply, "Golden Jive hasn't been broken in yet!"

"Could've fooled me. He looks pretty broke from this angle."

Oiler looked and was astonished; Speed Racer was showing Golden Jive's paces as if he had been working the horse for _years_. The man grit his teeth. _NO! This isn't happening! This WON'T be happening!_

The thin man shielded his eyes from the sun, and suddenly there was a flash of reflective light. The sudden brightness spooked the liver chestnut steed and he began to buck. Speed did all he could to calm the rolling, pitching stud under him but failed. The rider lost his balance and fell to the ground. Pain shot up his back, then darkness claimed him.

Pops watched in horror as his son fell, hitting his back hard on the corral rail and then hitting the ground headfirst.

"_SPEED!!" _the burly man bellowed as Oiler and he ran to the boy's side. Speed was not breathing.

"I told you the boy was too green to handle that horse." Dumeril stated harshly as he tried and succeeded in getting the jockey's heart beating. Speed gasped for air and gave a thumbs up. "All clear! Ready for round two!"

"No you don't! Not again!"

"Come on, Pops! This one has it and I _felt _him!"

"No argument Speed. Dumeril's right on this one; you need more experience before you can handle full-blood power!"

"I handle 'Go just fine and he has TEN times the power of any of _these_ beauties. Come on, Pops, _please?_"

Pops Racer looked into his son's earnest blue eyes and realized that he was repeating movements that he had gone through with Rex. _I don't want you hurt, Speed but I don't want to be the __**cause **__of your hurt, either. _The burly man sighed in resignation. "Very well. He's yours, son."

The look of gratitude the young man gave would stay engraved in his father's mind for years to come.

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**Fun fact! Since the Oilers names have a snake motif, I decided to follow the pattern by naming the father Dumeril, after the Dumeril's Boa Constrictor found usually in the tropics of Madagascar (although a five-foot female Dumeril can be found in a large tank in the corner of my bedroom). Dumerils feed by burying themselves deep in the ground and there they wait for their food to walk on their head, then they strike. Appropriate, isn't it? (**_**Gives evil chuckle**_**) Next up: The Drive! Stay tuned and be ready for a bonus surprise! **


	6. The Drive

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything but the plot, and in the words (paraphrased) of Gallop Racer games everywhere: _**this is a work of fiction. All persons or animals remotely resembling any real or imaginary beings are products of the author and no copyright infringement is intended by present company so please do not sue. **_I THINK that is the gist of what it says, but you get the idea and if I messed up I'll rewrite the disclaimer. I DO OWN Whisper Rocket, so if you sue me for that_** I **_will sue you right back!

**A/N**: Sorry for the late post! I have entered the ranks of the unemployed so I've been scrounging the area for job offers. I recently posted an ad on Craig's List, hiring myself out for babysitting and have gotten no bites yet. Anyhow, thanks to everyone who reviewed and a HUGE shout out to GentleLady for sticking with me for so long! People, seriously, GL is a top notch writer so give your thanks by checking her profile and bombarding her with reviews! Then, if you have juice left, send ME some revs, too! RACE ON!

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The Togakhan Roundup; the most exciting event next to racing in the minds of young ranch heirs. Very rarely did a rookie jockey participate in the drive but since Speed was 'of age' he did not hesitate to accept the invitation. The young rider joined five others and they set off on the long drove. To tell the truth, the challenge of the roundup wasn't the journey itself because the path wasn't very rough on the mounts or the drivers. The real challenge was _surviving_ the other riders and keeping cool when they got hot, as Speed was about to learn the hard way.

"Hey, Racer! I'm surprised to see you back on a horse after last week's disaster!" Cobra Oiler snickered as he showed off his skills as a horseman by trotting his grey mount around the younger jockey's small bay coldblood. The other riders laughed as they entered the mountains surrounding Togakhan Valley. Speed was about to explain that the ride had actually been a success, when he was interrupted by Snake Oiler and Jack Taylor making excited movements and pointing to something in the valley below. Snake had spotted two bands of wild bloods and had his heart set on nabbing at least four horses from each herd. Taylor had spotted something else to shout about and he was not shy about announcing his find to the rest of the group.

"Hey! It's Whisper Rocket! Look! Look! He's driving the herds on his dun beauty!"

'Whisper' Rocket was the world's youngest racing legend. He had been orphaned at birth and had gone from family to family until he got sick of being moved and struck out on his own. He wanted to be the greatest jockey in the world but since both the Cougar and the Iceman were long dead, the young rider saught after Racer X. After picking up some techniques and training under the Masked Racer for three years, the fifteen-year-old rookie created his own unique riding art that earned him the name 'Whisper'. At the age of 16, Whisper shattered the record for the Philly Downs track, becoming the first rookie to do so and jump-starting a year of flawless victory until the Kentucky Open, where he took a very close first. While he was celebrating in the Winner's circle, Rocket announced that he was going 'droving' for a while. Now 18, Rocket was known as the best driver in the country. However, he was also the hardest to find since he lived in the mountains and changed locations as the seasons changed. Appearances by the legendary drover were rare during the annual event so there was a good reason Taylor and the others were so transfixed by him.

"They say when Rocket and a wild horse lock eyes that they exchange a hundred words." Taejo Togakhan explained to Speed as the riders watched the young driver ride alongside the band stallion of one of the herds and made him turn left. The rest of the herd turned around and headed left also, their head honcho drifting behind them to make sure none of his mares were flanked by any threat.

Speed breathed in awe at what he was seeing and flashed Taejo a grin. Although Taejo was a rival jockey, he and Speed were good friends. The Asian jockey was two steps above rookie status himself, so he knew that what the other riders saw in Speed was his pure love of the sport—and they envied him for it. All they cared about nowadays was the money, the fame, and being better than everyone else. Since they could no longer enjoy racing for the pure joy of simply _racing_, they hoped to destroy any good, honest rookie until they were successful in corrupting their targets—or making sure their target was destroyed. Permanently. Taejo was rich and his family was powerful so the Oilers and the Taylors left him alone. The older jockey knew that Speed was an inviting target because he was decent and honest, and above all, a rookie.

Taejo's thoughts were confirmed when Pops and Taejo's father rode off to cut off any escape out of the valley, leaving the boys by themselves. As soon as the adults were gone, Jack and the Oiler boys rode ahead and began to talk among themselves. Taejo trotted his blood-bay gelding close enough to hear what the three were saying without drawing attention to himself. What he heard did not surprise him and only confirmed his suspicions.

"Alright, boys here's the plan," Cobra murmured, "my father said that Frisco's band should be here in five minutes. Racer seems pretty confident. Let's have _him_ take it."

Taylor snickered darkly, "That Rookie won't last two seconds against that stallion! Frisco'll run him into the ground!"

Snake laughed, "The best part is, we won't get blamed for it!"

His partners agreed, and sure enough another band came pouring into the valley. The herd was led by a proud, brown stallion with a fiery temper and a reputation of being overly aggressive. Snake whooped and hollered, "RACER HE'S YOURS!!" as the boys descended to the valley floor. Speed eagerly took the challenge but was cut off by Taejo.

"Don't do it, Speed! That horse is a man killer! Go for Rojo's band. They are better for breeding."

Speed cocked his head, "I can handle it, Taejo. It's no big deal."

The Asian heir shook his head, "My brother was killed by that horse. I cannot let you take this foolish risk. Take my advice and go after Rojo's band."

Speed sighed and was about to head for the other herd when his mount spooked, tossing him on his back.

"Speed look out! It's Frisco and he's after your filly! Get OUTTA THERE, Speed!!" Taejo hollered.

Speed found himself trapped between his bay filly and the brown stallion, unable to escape while the two frolicked around him. With growing dread, Taejo realized what Speed confirmed seconds later with panic in his voice.

"I _can't! _I _can't move_!"

The young rookie was about to be trampled by the stallion's powerful hooves when he was suddenly scooped up onto a dun surface. A voice chuckled in his ears as a light tone advised,

"You'd better be more careful, Speed Racer. Frisco is not a stallion you want to go wrestling with, even on his good days."

Speed looked into his rescuer's pitch eyes and saw the wildness in them and the sincerity. The exotic driver meant him well and the jockey was greatful.

"Thank you. You saved my life."

Rocket flashed his passenger a grin, then his coal eyes turned hard as the Oilers and Taylor rode up. Snake was the first to speak, and there was a strong lack of sincerity in his tone as he exclaimed,

"Speed! Thank _goodness_ you weren't _hurt!_ Rocket, how can we ever thank you?"

The legendary rider's voice was cold and laced with steel as he replied,

"You can't, Oiler. You can't because you did that on purpose! You didn't _want _Speed to make it out alive, so he owes you nothing and you owe _me _nothing. You jackals don't get it do you?! This isn't a race. It's a _Drive!_ The only way _any _of you are going to survive is if each and every one of you makes sure the others stay _**alive**_. Any more stunts like that, and you're on your own."

Speed perked up, "You're coming with us?"

Rocket nodded, "Pops and Togakhan said they're getting too old to do a full drive. They asked me to be your guide. Besides, Speed is now mountless and I need to take that route anyway because Oiler needs more broodmares for his cart horses."

"_You _work for Dumeril?!"

"I don't _work_ for anybody, Speed. I _volunteer _when it suites me. I also am in need of a mare. Oiler said if I drove for him for a week every month that he would give me two choice mounts from every drive. So far he's kept his word. If he ever crosses me, it won't be a pretty sight. The herds are moving. Let's go!"

The riders began herding the four bands out of the gorge and onto the drive path. Rocket drove with a whip only and did not hoot and holler like the other boys. When he did yell, it was a quick, sharp, "HAW!!" or a long whistle followed by a click. When he spoke, it was either to instruct, reprimand, or advise. If he talked at all it was either to Speed or Taejo.

Speed was thrilled when Rocket asked if there were any horses that Speed fancied. The rookie pointed out a blue-roan colt and Rocket smiled his approval.

"Good choice. Where's your freeze brand? Wait, never mind that—hand me a bandanna."

Speed gave the article to Rocket, who dismounted and slowly made his way to the chosen colt. Speed watched in awed silence as the exotic driver soothed the wild blood and tied the bandanna around the blue-roan's front right knee. Suddenly, Frisco was on top of the young driver, baring his teeth with his ears flat against his skull, nostrils flaring. Speed watched in horror as the brown stallion's mighty hooves pounded the ground again and again, making the ground shake under the crushing impact. Then, just as suddenly as he had appeared, the great stallion was gone.

"Oh, _man!"_ Snake breathed in disbelief.

"He's dead now." Cobra groaned, looking at the prone form that had not gotten up from the ground.

Taejo dismounted and ran to the body in the dirt, checking for vital signs. Rocket stirred suddenly.

"Lay off, Togakhan, I'm not hurt."

"But. . .the stallion--!" Jack stuttered as the teen driver stood and dusted himself off and chuckled.

"Ol' Frisco? He wouldn't hurt me. First rule of driving and racing; always examine a scene first before drawing conclusions. Speed, look at the ground around me and tell me what you see."

The young jockey looked around and was slightly disgusted by what he found, "A snake! What's left of a snake, anyway."

"Good. Frisco saw the snake but I didn't because I was listening to Old Blue. Old Blue didn't sense the danger because he was paying attention to _me._ _That _is what being one with your mount really means. You both are so in-tune with one another that nothing else matters. Nothing else _exists._"

Snake snorted, "It almost got you _killed_ Rocket."

The driver chuckled again then mounted his dun Mountain Horse, "Old Blue is the son of Frisco, gentlemen. That stallion was only doing his job as band leader. That's why I ducked. Frisco would never intentionally hurt me, but when he strikes you want to stay well away from his hooves."

The rest of the drive was pretty uneventful. Then the task of corralling reared its head and the boys hooted and hollered, driving the horses into the pen. Dust and rocks flew everywhere as the wild bloods struggled to get free. The band stallions were all released along with three fourths of their respective herds. The remaining horses were loaded into trailers to be transported to the Togakhan Estate; where they would be placed in a large pen to be displayed for potential buyers.

Their job complete, the boys followed the transports to the large estate, Speed eager to find out what happened next.


End file.
